Meat Pies and Sexytime
by orcslayer95
Summary: Belle tries to cheer up Rumple after Zelena. But it doesn't quite work out. ANGSTY RUMPLE! he may have PTSD.


It had been three weeks after the Zelena ordeal and things were starting to get back to normal. Belle just hoped they'd stay that way. Rumple had been distant. He'd been working long hours at the shop, sometimes even spending nights there. His limp was more pronounced. Belle knew he was still rattled from Zelena's compulsion and torture. She could only imagine what he'd had to endure in a year of captivity. The thought sickened her. She knew he felt guilty for hurting her and the others. She knew he had tried to withstand the compulsion of the dagger, but failed. She also suspected he was the one who had killed Zelena. Initially he had refused to talk about what happened, putting on a smile, saying he's had worse and he's fine now. Belle would drop it, thinking he needed time and not to push him, he'd tell her when he was ready. What she knew for a fact was that he wasn't fine. He hardly talked anymore, didn't want to go out, ate less and couldn't look Belle in the eye. Of course on top of the whole Zelena thing, Belle knew he was grieving for Neal. Baelfire. He blamed himself for his death. At Belle's insistence they had visited his grave, but Rumple had just stood there, his body taught like a bowstring, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Belle thought he might say something, had offered to wait in the car, but he'd shook his head and just kept staring at the tombstone. _"Beloved Son."_

And there was another thing. One that Belle admittedly missed the most. He hardly ever touched her anymore. They'd hugged a few times at Belle's initiation and they cuddled in bed on the nights he was home. He kissed her sometimes, but his kisses were short and chaste, without passion. It made Belle's chest ache to see her true love fall apart like this and not be able to help. So today she left the library early and went home, setting to work cleaning up the house so it was spotless and then starting to make a nice dinner. Rumple's favorite dinner was meat pie so she made 6 little pies, salad, mashed potato and pumpkin pie for dessert. She put the pies in the oven and went to take a shower. She left her hair to air-dry, cascading down her shoulders in soft little curls, the way Rumple liked it best. She opted for a casual yet fitted dress that rode up her ass when she bent over, and white stockings. Grinning to herself, she waited for her husband to come home. He was in for a surprise.

Half an hour later she heard keys in the front door. Rumple looked so handsome in his black three-piece suit.

"Hey," she said, standing on her toes to kiss him. "Dinner's almost ready."

He looked down at her, his jaw dropping and tired eyes widening a little as he took in what she was wearing. Leaning his cane against the wall, he shrugged off the suit jacket and put his hands around her waist. "You're so beautiful, Belle."

Belle could have sobbed. She pulled him close, inhaling his delicious scent. "So are you, Rumple."

A sad look crossed his face. She took him by the hand and pulled him to the table, pouring two glasses of wine. "How was your day?"

"Alright. Yours?"

"Good, yeah. There weren't many people at the library today. I closed early."

A tense silence fell and Belle almost jumped out of her skin when the oven alarm went off. She placed a steaming plate of pies in front of Rumple. She thought he would be pleased, they hadn't had meat pie in ages, but instead he just stared at his plate.

"You ok?" Belle put a hand on his shoulder and he shivered under her touch.

"What is this?" he asked quietly.

"Meat pie, your favorite?" she said, confused and disappointed. Rumple had gone completely white. He was still staring at his plate. Belle noticed his hands were shaking.

"Rumple what's wrong? I thought you'd be pleased…"

He swallowed hard and looked up at her. "Nothing, I'm fine, it's-this is great," he muttered, picking up his fork and taking a bite into the beautiful moist cavern that was his mouth. Belle was looking at him expectantly and slightly concerned. Suddenly her face morphed into Zelena's.

"That's my good boy," she cooed, force-feeding him mouthfuls of scalding pie that burned his throat. She had already fed him five pies and his stomach was so full he felt like he was about to burst. When he finished the sixth one she leaned over him from behind, wiping his mouth and running her disgustingly sharp fingernails down his chest and over his distended stomach.

"Stop," he spat, but she only laughed. "Still room for dessert?" Her laugh filled his head until it became so loud he couldn't hear anything else, he couldn't see and he was going to throw up. He pushed out of the chair and staggered to the bathroom, making it just in time to fall onto his knees and get his head over the toilet bowl.

"Rumple! Rumple?" He heard Belle's voice when he could hear again. He became acutely aware that he couldn't breathe. Suddenly there were hands rubbing his back. Small, warm hands. Belle. His Belle. He was safe. She waited patiently until he could breathe, her hands carding through his soft hair.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and she helped him stand and supported him to their bedroom.

"What happened back there?" she asked, taking his hand in both of hers.

Rumple hesitated. "Zelena forced me to eat meat pies…"

Belle's stomach twisted. "I'm so sorry…"

"Why don't I go make some tea," said BELLE. She cried a little while clearing off the table and putting the meat pies in the freezer. Her poor little Rumple. When she came back, Rumple was laying on the bed dressed in his boxer briefs and undershirt. He was staring at the ceiling. She set down the tray and held his favorite chipped cup out to him.

After they drank all the tea in silence, Belle snuggled close to him. She had an idea. He was way too tense and anxious; he needed to relax, to take his mind off things for a while. She knew just the thing.

"I love you," she said and closed her mouth over his, forcing his lips apart with her tongue and delving into that same moist cavern. She was delighted when he responded a few seconds later, biting down slightly on her lower lip. She straddled his hips and kissed her way down his neck.

"Belle?"

"Shh." She ripped his shirt off and kissed a hot trail down his chest, sucking at his nipples. Taking his groan as a signal, she ground her hips into his, feeling his hardness and staining him with her juicesss. His hands found the hem of her dress and she lifted her arms, allowing him to pull it off. He stared at her for a few moments, just drinking in her utter perfection. He still couldn't believe Belle was his. His wife. She was way out of his league. How the fuck could she love someone like him? It will always be a mystery. He cupped her swelling bosoms in his hands, kneading them gently till her nipples were stiff. He pinched them slightly, making her whimper, before letting his hands slide down to her dripping folds. He inserted two fingers and then three, massaging her clit with his thumb, until she was a quivering, moaning mess in his arms. And he realized he'd been neglecting her.

She scooted down his legs, careful to keep her weight off his bad one, and pulled him out of his tight black boxer briefs. He had a sudden flashback to Zelena's gross green hand around him, touching him everywhere, but he pushed the thought out of his mind.

Belle admired her husband's glorious length, pre-cum beading at the top, and stroked him several times before bending down and taking him into her mouth.

"Belle," he gasped as his hips jerked up involuntarily. Belle looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. Her face changed color. Her hair was red. She smirked up at him as she took him all the way to the back of her throat and pulled back out with a wet pop.

"I know you like this, Rumple, you can stop pretending you don't. Just let go, enjoy it. It's probably more than that innocent stupid housemaid ever gave you."

"Don't talk about her," he snarled and she squeezed his balls so hard in her hand he yelped. She laughed and started to jack him off. Despite himself, he groaned, it felt good. He felt himself getting close and struggled against the restraints. No, he wouldn't give her that sick satisfaction.

"Stop," he yelled and resorted to spitting in her face. She stopped. Looking into his eyes, she wiped the gob of spit off her cheek with her sleeve. She was wearing that stupid self-satisfied smile. Not breaking eye contact, she leaned in close and whispered, "come for me."

"No," he yelled, twisting violently out of Belle's grasp, staggering towards the door. However, in his haste he forgot about his leg, putting his full weight on it. His knee buckled and he fell, sprawled naked and trembling on the floor.

Belle was scared and didn't know what to do. She approached him slowly as one might approach a wounded animal. His eyes were wide, his face ashen. "Rumple, it's me," she said and cautiously took his hand, helping him sit up.

"Belle."

"Yeah."

"Gods, I'm sorry, I can't do it," he whispered and let his head fall against her chest. He may have been crying.

"It's ok." Belle helped him into his clothes and supported him back to bed. She curled herself around him and they SLEPT.


End file.
